Words Cut Deeper Than Knives
by 666-HyuugaNeji-999
Summary: Thranduil's eldest sons are MIA and tensions are higher than usual in the royal household. An argument is inevitable and harsh words prove to be more damaging than either could predict. However, an assassination attempt shows Legolas and his father that there are more important things than pride. Rated for mild violence, suffering and character death. Oneshot with 2 alt endings.
1. Chapter 1

**Hello everyone** :)

**Some of you may be thinking 'Why is she publishing something new when we've been waiting for an update for AGES?'. The answer: I'm currently suffering from horrific writer's block with regard to my current story, In Loving Memory. I found this story partially written on my hard drive and thought it might be nice to give you guys something different to read while you wait for me to get my act together. It's also a nice opportunity to see what you think of my writing in a Lord of the Rings/Hobbit context, since my next story after ILM may well be a LOTR fanfic.  
**

**Anyway, enough blathering on. This will be a three-shot story (a oneshot with two alternative endings) and I would LOVE if you would drop me a review and let me know which ending you prefer. This may have a small impact on a LOTR story I intend to write later, so please take the time to let me know. **

**Any elvish I use, I will translate at the bottom (but it probably won't be much as my Sindarin is decidedly rusty!).**

**Disclaimer: Any characters, places or themes are borrowed from the genius JRR Tolkien, apart from my OCs - you will know who they are!**

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_"Words cut deeper than knives. A knife can be pulled out, words are embedded into our souls." _

\- William Chapman

* * *

King Thranduil stormed into his office, sending a breeze across the room which scattered papers everywhere as he flung his cloak over a chair. Closely behind him, his son walked into the room, wearing a matching thunderous expression.

The King turned to look at the Prince. They held each other's gaze for several long moments without speaking, before Legolas's temper got the better of him.

"How could you let this happen?" he burst out, his eyes wide with anger.

"_Let _this happen? How dare you!" Thranduil retorted. "I am not omniscient, Legolas, nor have I ever claimed to be. One might as well ask why _you_ have done nothing about it."

Legolas's hands tensed into half-formed fists but he held himself in check - for now. "You knew something of the danger they were facing. You could have stopped them from leaving."

"They would not have listened to me! You know them, Legolas - they are stubborn as a pair of mules. Only a warning from Lady Galadriel herself would have stood a chance of convincing them to stay." Thranduil was trying very hard to keep his temper under control, but it was so very hard right now. "Do you not think that I miss them too?"

That brought Legolas up short, but only for a moment. He seemed to have something else on his mind. "If you miss them that much, why has nothing been done to recover their trail or avenge their deaths?"

"That is not fair, Legolas-"

"No, Adar, it is not. But do you know what else is not fair?" Legolas asked rhetorically through clenched teeth. "Arriving home from a long-term patrol to learn that both of your older brothers have still not come home from their visit to Rivendell, despite being over a month overdue, then finding out that your father has done nothing about it!"

Thranduil went white with fury. "You go too far."

"You do not go far enough! You will not even allow me to lead a search party to try and find them. You-" Legolas bit off the next thing he was about to say, but Thranduil nodded expectantly, raising his eyebrows.

"Go on. Whatever you were about to say, say it."

Legolas took a deep breath, then spoke in measured tones that only hinted at the boiling rage beneath. "One might think that you, the mighty King Thranduil of Mirkwood, was afraid."

Thranduil's eyes narrowed. "Afraid? Of what, pray?"

"You would rather hide behind your palace walls and send out scouting parties than go and look for your sons. You won't even let me go and search for them myself!"

"These are childish words, ill-befitting one who would call himself Prince of Mirkwood. I thought you had started to grow up, but clearly I was wrong." Thranduil could see the hurt in his son's eyes as he spoke, but his anger would not let him take the words back.

Legolas narrowed his own pale-blue eyes and looked his father right in the face. "Better to be a child than a coward."

The King stared at his son in shock, all of the anger draining from him. The coldness in his son's eyes made him look like a stranger. "If that is how you feel-"

"That is how it is." Legolas spoke sharply, cutting off his father's words as if they didn't matter.

Thranduil didn't know what to do. He opened his mouth to say something, _anything_, but no words came out. The Prince looked at his father icily, then turned and left the room without another word.

_You are a coward._

_Coward. _

The King turned away and slammed his fist into the nearest wall, roaring with a mix of rage and despair. Had Legolas spoken purely out of anger, or was there some truth to his words? He slammed his fist against the wall again and again, hoping the pain would serve as a distraction from the turmoil in his mind. Eventually he slumped against the stone and slid down until he was sitting on the floor. Blood was smeared across his knuckles and he could see the skin had split, but he didn't care.

_My elder sons are missing. My youngest son hates me. _

Tears trickled down his face as he leaned against the cold stone wall, blood dripping from his hand to patter on the floor. _Oh Lothiriel, my love. Why did you have to leave me? I can't do this without you. _

He imagined his wife's soft smile and gentle voice. _Yes, you can. Legolas is grieving. He does not mean what he says. _

_I wish I could believe that._ He bit his lip as more tears fell, remembering the coldness in Legolas's eyes. There was no pretence there; in that moment, his son had despised him.

He wasn't sure how long he sat there, slumped against the wall, but the light had gone from the orange glow of sunset to the purple-blue of dusk when he finally got to his feet again. The window was open, letting in a cool breeze which carried the scents of the evening with it. Damp grass and sweet flowers mingled with the fresh scent of pine as he took a deep breath, smiling despite his misery. The sun was a wonderful thing, but there was no comparing it with the beauty of the night.

Unfortunately, his admiration of the starlit gardens was brutally cut short. A sharp twang was his only warning, giving him time to take one step backwards before an arrow slammed into his ribs. He gasped in pain, eyes wide as he took in every detail of the black-fletched arrow protruding from his abdomen. The room seemed to tilt as he staggered and fell backwards, landing hard on the floor. He raised a shaking hand, trying to press it to the wound and contain the bleeding but when he touched the arrow it sent a bolt of white-hot pain through his entire body. His breathing harsh and ragged, he tried to take a deeper breath but it came out in a sharp cry of pain.

_There is an assassin in my garden. _

The sentence seemed so absurd that he almost laughed, but it came out as a sharp cough. The movement sent pain ripping through his ribs and chest, making it hard to breathe. Half-conscious and in enormous amounts of pain, he did the only thing he could think of. Closing his eyes, he opened his mind, reached out and touched the nearest presence he recognised.

_Legolas, _he started to say, but a wave of weariness swept over him and he found it difficult to focus. _Come...please..._

There was no response, but he couldn't tell if that was due to inaction on Legolas's part or if he was just too weak to feel it. The wound was still bleeding heavily, soaking his clothes and pooling on the floor around him. He tried not to look at it.

His vision was blurring. He blinked to try and focus it, then frowned when it continued to blur and darken. He coughed again and the salty taste of blood filled his mouth. Something warm was trickling from one side of his mouth and he realised with a jolt of adrenaline that the arrow must have punctured his lung.

_I'm drowning,_ he thought vaguely, feeling his chest tighten as blood filled his mouth again and trickled down over his chin. He thought he heard a voice but he lacked the energy to turn his head and look. Even if he could have, it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. The room spun sickeningly above him and he almost closed his eyes to shut it out, but a terrified voice he barely recognised as his own shouted in the back of his mind: _If you close them now, you'll never open them again!_

Then, suddenly, hands closed over his shoulders and turned him onto his side. The pain this movement caused was blinding and he opened his mouth to cry out, but blood clogged his throat and he choked. Firm hands rubbed his back and held him as he convulsed and choked out mouthfuls of blood onto the floor. Finally, he drew in a short but heavenly breath, his body relaxing a little as it was reunited with precious air.

_Adar!_

There was that voice again. It sounded so familiar. He wondered if he could force his eyes open and see who had come to his aid.

"Adar!" The voice was louder now, as urgent hands turned him onto his back again and brushed his hair from where it had fallen across his face. He concentrated and his eyelids flickered. Focusing harder, he was rewarded with the blurry image of a white face framed with long pale hair.

"L-Le-" he stammered, but his throat wouldn't let him finished. He choked again and the face came closer, as a long-fingered hand squeezed his shoulder.

"Shhh. Don't try to talk," Legolas said softly. "I've called for help. The healers will be here any moment."

Thranduil nodded weakly, not trusting his voice again. He could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing over the thunder of his heartbeat. His vision blurred again and he blinked hard but it didn't help.

"Adar, open your eyes." Legolas was using the commanding tone he usually reserved for training new Guard recruits. That meant he was worried. "Now, Adar. Come on."

_I'm trying_, he wanted to say, but his voice wouldn't work. Instead he focused his energy on lifting his eyelids. It was hard work but he was rewarded by the sight of his son smiling.

"That's it, Adar. Hold on. You're going to be alright."

Thranduil wondered whether Legolas believed those words, or if he was trying to convince himself. Either way, he was just glad to hear his son's voice, even if he couldn't reply. He turned his head slightly to look Legolas in the eyes and hoped that his thoughts showed on his face. The Prince smiled again and nodded encouragingly.

Suddenly, footsteps crossed the room and another face appeared beside his son's. After a moment, Thranduil recognised the dark hair and bright eyes of Norolion, his chief healer.

"My King, we're going to lift you onto the bed," Norolion said clearly. "This will hurt, so I apologise in advance."

He turned away and said something Thranduil couldn't hear to Legolas, who nodded. Legolas moved round so that he was upside down in Thranduil's field of vision, sliding his hands carefully under his father's shoulders. Two other healers took hold of his legs and supported his body as they lifted him up and laid him on the bed. He supposed they probably were trying to be gentle, but regardless the movement was agony. He cried out and his limbs convulsed in an attempt to get away from the pain.

"Hold him down!" A voice said urgently. "We need to take the arrow out."

Thranduil was vaguely aware of someone speaking in his ear. It sounded like Legolas but he wasn't sure and didn't have the strength to open his eyes and check. "Hold on," the voice was saying. "Hold on, Adar. Please, just a little longer."

So it was Legolas. Thranduil wished desperately for the power of telepathy that Lady Galadriel was blessed with, so that he could comfort his son, but he lacked the energy to even try. Their harsh words from before still resounded in his mind but at the moment they didn't seem so important.

"They're taking the arrow out now, Adar," Legolas's voice spoke from somewhere nearby.

He tried to nod but wasn't sure if it worked. He was starting to feel cold now, little shivers sending new sparks of pain through his body. For a moment, Thranduil wondered whether he was dying.

Then they pulled the arrow out. Blinding, searing pain shot through him, filling his world with white light that swiftly faded to black.

* * *

When Thranduil's awareness returned, he was still surrounded by healers. The black arrow had gone, the place where it had been covered with bloody bandages. Without moving his head, he swivelled his eyes until he spotted a flash of bright blonde.

"Adar! You're awake!" Legolas exclaimed with joy.

"We thought we'd lost you for a moment, my King," one of the healers said with a thin smile.

Another healer spoke softly in the first healer's ear, unfortunately not softly enough that Thranduil did not hear him. "The bleeding will not stop, sir. What do we do?"

Thranduil frowned and looked down at the bandages. There did seem to be more blood on the outside of them than there ought.

"The wound is clean and neat, but the arrow was coated with a unique poison." Norolion appeared by the head of the bed. "It is preventing the wound from beginning to heal and allowing you to keep bleeding, my King."

"What can we do to stop it?" Legolas asked nervously.

Norolion glanced from the prince to his father with trepidation. "The quickest and cleanest thing we can do is cauterise the wound."

Thranduil's eyes widened. He stared from the healer to his son and back again, shaking his head as hard as he could - which wasn't very hard, all things considered.

"Give us a moment," Legolas said softly.

Norolion nodded once and walked to the other side of the room, far enough to provide some privacy but close enough to be useful if anything should happen.

"I know how you feel about fire, Adar, but this could save your life!" Legolas whispered earnestly. "It will only take a moment and then everything will be fine."

Thranduil's face creased in pain both current and remembered and he turned his head away. After what that dragon had done to him, he had spent centuries hiding his terror of being burned again. Now he was supposed to believe that they needed to burn him in order to save his life?

"Please, Ada."

His eyes snapped back to his son, who was sitting disconsolately beside the bed. "I can't lose you, Ada. Not now, not ever. I-I didn't mean what I said before."

_See? I told you, _Lothiriel's gentle voice teased as Thranduil watched a single tear make its way down his son's ivory cheek.

Thranduil realised that Legolas was still speaking. "You aren't a coward. You're anything but a coward. I only said that because I was angry, and because...because I thought you didn't care. But I know that you _do_. And I care about you, so _please_ let them do this!"

There was no choice. As much as he feared it, this was the only solution that would allow him to continue living with his son. He couldn't leave Legolas alone, not with his brothers still missing and his mother already gone. Lothiriel would never forgive him if he met her now in the Halls of Mandos, knowing the burdens he'd placed on their young son's shoulders. He nodded once, stiffly, and tried to suppress the feeling that he was signing his own death warrant.

"My father has agreed to allow you to cauterise the wound. Please, do it quickly." Legolas moved back to sit out of the way by his father's head, taking one of his hands. He squeezed gently and smiled, but the expression didn't reach his worried eyes.

Thranduil tried to squeeze back, but the energy just wasn't there. It was all he could do to keep his eyes open and fixed on his son. He couldn't risk looking down at the wrong moment and witnessing what they were about to do to him. The pain would be bad enough without the image as well.

"Squeeze as hard as you need to, Adar," Legolas told him. "I know this will hurt."

_You have no idea, ion-nin._

Thranduil would never admit to his son that he still had nightmares about the time after he was burned by the dragon. For weeks he had lain in a bed in the medical wing, swathed in bandages that felt like they were lined with razors. Unable to move, see or even scream, he had lain there believing himself to be the only occupant in a universe of pain. This would not be nearly so bad, but the pain would be the same type. Flashbacks and nightmares were inevitable; it was only recently that the nightmares had started to recede, too. He should have known that it was too good to be true.

"We are ready, my King. I will make this as quick as I can."

Without thinking, Thranduil looked down and saw the red-hot knife descending towards him. Panic rose in his throat and he tried to move himself away from the heat beating against his skin, but strong hands held him down. Pale hair crossed his vision and a soft voice murmured in his ear.

"_Scream if you need to, Adar. I'm here. You're safe."_

Then the world was filled with pain again. The sickening hiss of hot metal on flesh was drowned out by screams as Thranduil struggled against his son and the healers who held him down. Cauterisation was always traumatic but for the King who had been burned with dragon fire, it was pure torture. Sweat ran down his face and mingled with the blood that had dried in streaks on his face and chin as he choked out agonised screams. All the while, his son murmured soothingly in his ear, reminding him that he was not alone, that he was with those who loved him, and that everything was going to be alright.

* * *

**Elvish:**

**Adar: father**

**Ion-nin: my son **


	2. Chapter 2

**This is the first of two alternative endings I wrote for this story. Warning: implicit character death.**

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was pain. It wasn't the sharp, searing pain he had expected but a dull ache that spread across his chest and back. His head ached too, every pulse of his heartbeat sending a new jab of pain through his skull. He wondered if he could open his eyes. Did he even have eyes anymore, or had the dragon destroyed them too?

Then he heard his son's voice and memory returned. The dragon was no more; this was just an assassination attempt gone wrong. He wanted to laugh, picturing Lothiriel's outraged expression as he used the word 'just'.

"Please, Ada..."

Legolas sounded like he was crying. Thranduil wanted to reach out and touch his arm, hold his hand, do anything to stop those heartbreaking tears. Then he realised what Legolas had said.

He hadn't called him 'Ada' since he was an elfling.

Another soft sob from the darkness steeled Thranduil's resolve. He was breathing and his headache was pulsing in time with his heart, so he definitely wasn't dead yet. If he wasn't dead, surely he could open his eyes? He struggled to find the right muscles and remember how to use them.

"I need you to wake up now. Please!" Legolas's voice broke and Thranduil felt a pressure as - he assumed - Legolas took his hand and squeezed gently. "I-I can't do this w-without you..."

He broke down again and Thranduil felt his own eyes prickle with tears at the despair in his son's voice. Was his situation so grave? Had he been so close to death that the healers thought him a lost cause?

Frustrated, he tried harder, forcing his eyelids to flicker. The bright light he glimpsed through the narrow gap was blinding but he redoubled his efforts, rewarded by a stab of pain through his head and the sight of his son sitting beside him. Legolas's head was bowed, his shoulders shaking as he silently sobbed, still holding his father's hand. Thranduil wondered if he could squeeze that hand, to let his son know he was awake. He definitely wasn't going to try and talk; his throat felt like he'd swallowed shards of glass.

Legolas jerked his head up, looking wildly round at his father. When he saw that his eyes were open, a smile crossed his face, looking strangely at odds with the redness of his eyes and the tears still streaking down his face. "Adar!"

Thranduil felt the side of his mouth lift into a half-smile as he examined his son's face. Legolas had sounded distraught before and now, even though he knew his father was awake he still didn't look very happy. Thranduil frowned, wishing he could ask what was wrong.

His question must have shown on his face because Legolas bit his lip, trying to hold back another sob. "I'm so sorry, Adar," he choked, reaching down to pick up something by his feet. "Th-these were found in the forest. A patrol brought them back yesterday evening." He held them up so that Thranduil could see them.

It took only a moment to recognise what his son was holding. Thranduil felt his heart shatter. His eyes widened and he tried to take a breath but his chest was suddenly too tight. He realised Legolas was still talking and tried to force his mind to focus on that, instead of the screaming in his head.

"The healers didn't want me to tell you yet, but I can't keep it from you. I'm sorry, Adar, but I can't...I can't do this by myself."

_My sons are dead._

Thranduil felt his hand closing around his son's without having told it to. It was as if his body were moving automatically, providing what comfort it could without him needing to think. Legolas set the knives on the bedside table with a soft 'click' that sounded to Thranduil like a coffin-lid closing.

_My sons are dead._

"I'm sorry for what I said, Adar!" Legolas burst out, as if he had wanted to say it for ever. "I didn't mean any of it. You were only doing what you thought was right."

_I should have done more._

"No, Adar," Legolas said firmly, reading his thoughts on his face, "this is not your fault. Nobody is to blame for this apart from the monsters that...that k-killed..."

He stopped again and swallowed hard, clearly trying not to start crying again. Thranduil's heart broke to see his youngest son forcing himself to act like the Prince of Mirkwood instead of a grieving little brother. "I have to be strong now, for you. Until you get better."

Thranduil could see what was happening. It was the same thing that had happened to him after he lost his father and grandfather to the Battle at Dagorlad. He had hardened his heart in fear of experiencing more loss, believing it to be the only solution. Only Lothiriel's soft words and patient spirit had been able to coax him out of his shell of grief. He would not sit by and watch as his son did the same. Closing his eyes, he concentrated and ignored the increased pain in his head as he pushed out with his mind. It took every ounce of strength that he had to say a few simple words, but as it turned out, those words were enough.

_I love you, my little greenleaf. _

Legolas stared at him, eyes brimming with tears, then his face crumpled and he started to sob again. Leaning forwards, he laid his head on the pillow beside his father's. All the harsh words they had exchanged were forgotten, unimportant. All that mattered was the comfort and closeness they could give each other in their time of need.

Tonight they were not the King or the Prince. Tonight they were just two people, grieving the loss of two beloved sons and brothers. Tomorrow would be harder, filled with duty and obligation to a grieving kingdom, but for tonight they had each other. And that was enough.

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**Elvish:**

**Ada: daddy**

**Adar: father (more formal)**


	3. Chapter 3

**As you might have guessed, this is the second ending I wrote for this story. This chapter will feature two OCs of my own creation. **

* * *

The first thing he was aware of was pain. It wasn't the sharp, searing pain he had expected but a dull ache that spread across his chest and back. His head ached too, every pulse of his heartbeat sending a new jab of pain through his skull. He wondered if he could open his eyes. Did he even have eyes anymore, or had the dragon destroyed them too?

Then he heard his son's voice and memory returned. The dragon was no more; this was just an assassination attempt gone wrong. He wanted to laugh, as he could almost see Lothiriel's outraged expression as he used the word 'just'.

Another voice joined the first and Thranduil's head twitched to the side, trying to identify it. The speaker sounded like they were very far away.

"He's waking up!" a third voice spoke suddenly from beside the bed.

_Who's there?_ he wanted to ask, but he knew his voice was useless. His throat felt like it had been scrubbed with sharp stones. Instead he concentrated, listening hard and trying to put faces to voices. His skull throbbed as he focused, but it was to no avail. The voices were too indistinct for his exhausted mental capabilities to work out their owners. It was deeply frustrating.

A hand closed around his own and squeezed gently, as a soft voice spoke in his ear. "Open your eyes, Adar. There's someone here to see you."

_Legolas? What do you mean? _He wished desperately that he could just open his mouth and ask, but he wasn't sure he could speak even if he'd wanted to. He frowned, his eyes moving beneath their lids as he tried to remember which muscles he needed to use to open his eyes. It felt like he hadn't used them in quite some time. A flash of bright light blinded him for a moment and he assumed that meant he had been partially successful. A chorus of joyful exclamations strengthened that assumption and he tried again, wincing at the renewed pain in his head as he opened his eyes a crack. Three pale faces looked down at him, all framed by the same identical pale hair.

_Could it be...?_

"You had us scared, little brother!" Lithônion's lilting laugh brought an almost imperceptible smile to Thranduil's lips. "From the way you were talking, I thought he was dead!"

"Hello, Adar," Veryan interjected, looking down at him. "I'm sorry we worried you and Legolas."

Thranduil's chest, tight and filled with pain as it was, seemed to lighten just a little as he took in the sight of his three sons smiling down at him. He tried to project all of his love and joy into his eyes and, from their smiles, he succeeded. He hadn't known what to expect when he'd heard another voice alongside Legolas's, but this was the best he could possibly have hoped for.

"We thought you might be dead," Legolas admitted, looking embarrassed.

"Knowing you two, it didn't end there." Lithônion looked knowingly between his brother and their father. "You had a fight, didn't you?"

Thranduil and Legolas looked at each other, then looked away pointedly. Their argument was not the first and would likely not be the last, but for now their harsh exchange was unimportant. Laughter filled the room again and both elder brothers shook their heads in exasperation.

"We can't leave you alone for a moment, can we? No wonder Galion always looks worried." Lithônion chuckled, but there was an undertone of seriousness as he looked from one to the other. "There is enough trouble in this forest without the two of you making it worse!"

Legolas hung his head and contrived to look extremely chastised and contrite. Thranduil felt a laugh bubble up in his throat, but it came out as an extremely painful cough instead. A cup of water was put to his lips and he sipped gratefully, feeling the liquid burn down his throat but relishing its coolness on his tongue. When he had drunk his fill, the cup was placed back on the bedside table and his sons resumed their places around the bed.

"Legolas told us what happened to you, Adar," Veryan said with sudden seriousness. "Thank the Valar you're alright now."

'_Alright' is a loose term_, Thranduil thought, as another jab of pain seared from his chest right up to his aching head. _But I am alive. And my sons are safe._

_A Elbereth, I can ask for no more than that._

* * *

**Elvish:**

**Adar: father**

**Valar: Elven pantheon of deities, possibly manifestations of Eru the creator (open to debate)**

**My OCs:**

**Lothiriel: flower (Thranduil's wife and mother to Legolas - unnamed by Tolkien)**

**Lithônion: ash tree (Elder brother of Legolas)**

**Veryan: brave (elder brother of Legolas and Lithônion)**

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**I hope you enjoyed this :) please feel free to leave me a review and let me know which ending you prefer and why! Your answers might have some impact on a story I plan to write in the future so please do let me know what you think! **

**Thanks for reading :D x**


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